Mine!

by Natalie Hyde

  “He’s been moved to County, but only because the station cells were full. Last night there was a big rally to protest the new bridge the city wants to build on the outskirts of town that will cut through some bald eagles’ nesting areas. According to the news, it started peacefully but then someone threw an overripe mango at the police and it went downhill from there. Forty-two people were arrested. Jails are overflowing. Your dad’s court date is in a couple of weeks and the desk sergeant I spoke to thinks he’ll be out shortly after that.”

  I didn’t let her see the liquid that was pooling at the sides of my eyes. “Thanks for finding that out,” I mumbled.

  Shard winked. “No problem. But I guess I won’t be seeing you for a while.”

  I was surprised that that hurt even more than not having a home anymore. Shard was my go-to person for information. Especially about people. She understood people so much better than me. But she was right. I had to scram.

  “Just one more favour,” I said.

  Shard rolled her eyes. “What now?”

  “Will you look after Bandit for me?”

  “The stray? He doesn’t like me.”

  “He just doesn’t know you.”

  “Look, you have a way with dogs. I don’t.”

  “Just feed him something when you can. He’s so skinny.”

  Shard thought for a moment. “Well, it would get me out of eating my mom’s meat loaf. Does he like dry, flavourless bricks of cooked meat?”

  “When you’re hungry enough, you’ll eat anything.”

  “All right. I’ll do it — but even one slobber on my face and I’m outta there.”

  “Thanks,” I said, relieved. I didn’t want him to think he was being abandoned. I knew how that felt.

  I gave her a little wave as I jogged down the lane. I decided it was crowded enough on the streets now to be safe travelling along Salisbury Street. It was quicker than trying to go down all the little streets and back lanes to get to the Bull and Brambles. As I walked, I got a creepy feeling. You know that feeling that someone is watching you? I looked quickly over my right shoulder and noticed a car driving slowly, keeping pace with me.

  The hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up. What should I do? Run, or pretend I didn’t notice anything? I opted to just keep walking. I turned onto Wellington Street, hoping the car would keep going straight and then I would know it was just my overactive imagination.

  But the car turned down Wellington and was still driving super slow. Now my heart was pounding so hard that I was having trouble breathing. I chanced another look. The driver was a man wearing dark sunglasses. I scanned the area, looking for an escape. I needed to find somewhere to go where a car couldn’t follow, preferably in a direction away from the bar. I didn’t want to give my hideaway away. I looked for an alley, a backyard with low fences — something.

  And then I saw it. Between two houses on Wellington was a fenced walkway that led to the schoolyard of St. Peter’s Elementary. As I went past the opening, I turned suddenly and sprinted down the long pathway. I could hear a car accelerate on the road. If the driver knew the area as well as I did, he would know that a left on Beverly and another on Glamis would bring him to the front of the school. There was no way I could outrun him. So as I reached the end of the path, I looked back. The car was gone. I spun around and sprinted back down the path the way I had come. I stopped near the entrance and looked to see if the car was waiting anywhere. When I didn’t see it, I dashed across the street, ran back up to Salisbury and slowed to a jog so I wouldn’t be noticed.

  I had trouble getting my breathing under control and imagined that everyone was staring at me. One block before the Bull and Brambles, I took a quick look around and then disappeared down a side street that connected with the laneway that led to the back door. I was almost home free.

  As I turned onto the lane, I stopped dead in my tracks. By the back entrance to the Bull was a police car. I froze. Before I could turn and run, the back door opened and an officer came out. I looked around frantically for a place to hide. There was a small wooden shed just behind the Bull, but it was padlocked shut. With a pretty big lock, I might add. Why would there be such a large lock on a shed that looked like a strong wind would blow it over? Whatever the reason, there was no way to get inside.

  There was no time to try and pry one of the boards off, so I just flattened myself on the wall farthest away from the door. Problem was, as the police car began to back out, he would see me. I timed it so that I went around the back corner of the shed just as the car came into view. Then as it backed to the right to point down the laneway, and could see that side of the shed, I slipped around the third corner to the wall closest to the bar. Feeling a little lightheaded from not breathing, I heard the car accelerate and leave.

  I almost collapsed on the ground.

  Did Fiona rat me out? Is that why the cops were here? Could I really trust her to take me up north without turning me in? There was only one way to find out. I went to the door and knocked.

  Fiona opened it. “Can’t you use the front door?” she asked.

  That was a suspicious question. It made me wonder if she wanted me to use the front door so anyone watching the place could nab me. Only one problem with that — I hadn’t told Fiona about Family Services yet. Unless that cop just did. I kept one foot in the door jamb so that I could bolt out the door if this got worse.

  “Why were the cops here?”

  “Courtesy call. There was a break-in at Sam’s Electronics last night. Thieves escaped through the back lane here. They wanted to know if I’d seen or heard anything. Why?”

  Sounded plausible. Or was I just gullible? I had to make a decision — was I going to trust Fiona or not? Because there wasn’t much point in making plans to go north with her if I didn’t. And really, I had to trust someone.

  “Oh, did you? See anything, I mean?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll get to work, then.” I pushed past her and went into the backroom. I assumed I’d be washing dishes again. Fiona didn’t say anything about me not staying, so I put down my backpack, rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

  This time, partway through the night, Fiona disappeared into her apartment and when she came back down she handed me a plate with a turkey sandwich on it. I was so hungry my hands were shaking as I picked it up. It was gone in under sixty seconds.

  “You know someone named Randy?” Fiona asked me, coming into the backroom and rooting around for more coasters.

  Yeah, I knew Randy, the wallet thief. “No. Why?”

  “He’s been asking ’bout you and your dad.”

  “Asking what?”

  “Where you are. Where your dad is.”

  Fiona was watching me real close. I told her it was probably one of my dad’s drunken friends.

  She leaned in to say, “Kid, he’s bad news.”

  A shiver went through me that I couldn’t stop. “Nothing to me,” I said, hoping I looked unconcerned. I didn’t want to tell her how stupid I had been to open the door and let Randy into our apartment.

  Fiona stared at me for a few seconds more, then went back out to the bar.

  I didn’t like this. Now Randy was sniffing around? I did my best to concentrate on the glasses, but the truth was, deep down, I was really, really worried.

  CHAPTER 11

  PICKLES, CHEESE AND PANTYHOSE

  The next morning, Fiona was up early. I hoped that was a good sign. I hoped she was packing and doing whatever she needed to do to leave the bar for a few days. I found her on the phone in the main bar. She was rolling her eyes a lot and slammed the phone down when she was done.

  “Everything okay?” I couldn’t help asking. Please don’t let her say that she wasn’t going to take me after all, I silently prayed.

  “Just dandy.”

  “Who was that on the phone?” Please don’t say Family Services.

  “My mother,” she said and took a deep breath. “My family can’
t wait to see me. And Aunt Peggy is making cabbage rolls for the ‘Throwing of the Ashes’ party she is planning.” She made a face.

  “Doesn’t it make you happy that they want to see you?”

  “You don’t know my family,” she said, stomping to the backroom.

  I didn’t get that. I would love to have family, even distant relatives, wanting me to visit. Maybe when you have a great family like that, you take it for granted. Well, Fiona would have to sort it all out for herself. At least she didn’t say anything about cancelling our trip, and I was hanging on to that. I just wish we didn’t have to wait until tomorrow. What if I missed out on staking the claim by one day? I would never get over it.

  I didn’t know what to do with the rest of the day; walking outside wasn’t safe and I couldn’t go back to the apartment. Fiona was busy doing stuff that I couldn’t help with and I didn’t have anything to pack. That was the worst — not having anything to keep my mind from wandering and making me nervous. In desperation, I grabbed a cloth and started wiping down the tables.

  I wondered if Dad missed me and if he understood why I couldn’t go visit him. I didn’t wonder whether my mom missed me or not. I had trained myself not to.

  I jumped when someone started pounding on the front door. The bar didn’t open until one o’clock in the afternoon. Who would be trying to get in at eleven thirty in the morning?

  Fiona was in the back and didn’t hear the knocking, so I made my way cautiously to the door. It was hard to see through the frosted glass, but I could make out that it was someone short, so unless Family Services was hiring kids to do their dirty work, it should be safe to open the door.

  “Took you long enough.” It was Shard. She pushed past me, closed the door quickly behind her and peeked out through the frosted glass.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to see her, happier than I’d ever admit to her, but we had already said our goodbyes.

  “You’ve got trouble.”

  Really? Did she think that was news? “Yeah, and?”

  “I was just heading out this morning when I saw Mrs. Family Services talking to someone outside your apartment door.”

  Could it be my dad got released already? My heart started to thump wildly.

  “Who was she talking to?”

  “I don’t know. Some big guy with a ponytail.”

  I felt a cold shiver run down my back. It wasn’t my dad and I wasn’t happy about who I thought it had to be — Randy. So now he was not only asking about us at the bar, but casing out our apartment too.

  “What were they saying?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t hear the whole thing, but I heard him mention the Bull and Brambles Pub, and then she thanked him for his help. I think she’s going to check this place out. I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here.”

  Tell me this wasn’t happening.

  “But Fiona said she wouldn’t be ready to leave until tomorrow! What if Mrs. Family Services comes in here?” I could feel fresh waves of panic wash over me. Maybe this was going to be all over before it started.

  “So tell Fiona you have to leave early because Family Services is hot on your trail.”

  “Um, I didn’t exactly tell her that part.”

  “What part?”

  “About Family Services wanting to find me.”

  Shard put her palm over her face. “Are you kidding me? You didn’t tell her? Man, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when she finds out.”

  “If Mrs. Family Services comes in here tonight, I’ll be in foster care before I have to worry about that.” I said miserably.

  Shard punched me in the arm. “Good luck. I’m outta here before they throw me in foster care too.” She took a piece of paper out of her jeans pocket and handed it to me. “Our phone number. Just in case.” She took another look out the window and slipped out the door.

  I put the paper in my front pocket. I hoped I’d never have to use it. Right now I just had to worry about whether there was any chance I could convince Fiona to leave earlier than she planned. Like in half an hour.

  Before I could even think of a story to get her to do that, she burst out of the backroom. Like Shard would say, I’m not really good at reading people, but even I could tell she was upset. Call me a chicken, but I wasn’t going to ask her what was wrong this time. Unfortunately, she told me anyway.

  “So now my mom wants me to bring stuff when I come.”

  “Stuff?”

  “A jar of her favourite gourmet pickles, organic goat’s milk soap, Gorgonzola cheese, queen-size ultra-sheer pantyhose and on and on. What am I? Her personal delivery service? Not to mention how long it’s going to take me to run around town to get all that stuff.” She shook her head and muttered.

  “Why doesn’t she just get it herself?”

  “Everything’s way more expensive up north, and some of it you can’t get up there no matter how much money you have, like her gourmet pickles. So when the family heard I was coming, they started putting in their orders with my mom.”

  So much for leaving early. At this rate, we wouldn’t be leaving for days. “I can do it for you.”

  Fiona whirled around. “What?”

  “I can do it. Just give me a list of what you need and where to go and I’ll pick it up. I think it’s really important that we leave tomorrow.”

  “You’re really anxious to get up there, aren’t you?”

  “Yup.” I didn’t want to tell her that right now I didn’t care where I went, as long as I got out of town before Family Services caught up with me.

  Fiona sighed. “Okay. Give me a minute to write it all down and find you some petty cash.”

  Which is how I found myself standing in the aisle in Juan Carlo’s Jardiniere Market staring at a row of jarred pickles. I had never seen so many pickles in my life. The labels on them all had pictures of farms or grandmas in aprons, and fancy script announcing the wonderful pickle concoction inside: Belly Buster Pickles, Just-Like-Grandma-Used-to-Make Pickles and Hot! Hot! Hot! Chili Pepper Pickles. It took me forever to find Fiona’s mother’s favourite, Mabel’s Pucker-Up Sour Garlic Pickles. Only one item was crossed off my list and I had been gone forty minutes already.

  I powered my way through the list. The worst one was getting the pantyhose. I had been standing in front of a huge rack of packages in the drugstore for what felt like an hour when an older lady came over to help me. I told her I was buying them for my mom who was sick and she looked at my list and plucked out a package in seconds. One taupe queen-size control-top sandalfoot pair of hose was finally in my hands. I thanked her, ran to the checkout, paid for them and got out of there like a swarm of bees was chasing me. I sure hoped this gold claim was worth public humiliation.

  It was after supper before I was done. I grabbed a hot dog from one of those carts, silently thanking Lisa and the other bar waitresses for the tip jar that gave me some food money.

  When I got back to the Bull, I chanced going through the front doors. The place was packed and there were so many people going in and out that I figured it was safe.

  “So, how’d you make out?” Fiona asked me when I put the bags on the counter in the backroom.

  “Got everything, I think. I couldn’t find Mountain Gorgonzola, but the lady at C’est Cheese told me the Gorgonzola Piccante is the same thing.”

  “Uh, sure,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “So, are we still a ‘go’ for tomorrow?”

  “Do you know a Mrs. Ledbetter?” Fiona asked, not answering my question.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Mrs. Ledbetter? Who could that be? Uh oh. Was that the real name of Mrs. Family Services?

  “Yup, I’m sure.”

  “Short, chunky lady with squinty eyes?”

  I felt dread wash over me. It was Mrs. Family Services. I shook my head. “Who is she?”

  “She came around here this afternoon looking for you. Said it was impo
rtant. Said she heard you were staying here.” Fiona was studying me carefully. I avoided her eyes.

  “Never heard of her.” Which was sort of true. I had never actually heard her name before.

  “Huh. Well, she seemed pretty convinced that she knew you.” Fiona turned her back to me and started unpacking the things I bought. “She gave me the willies, though. Reminded me of those vultures from Family Services that were harassing my mom when I was a girl. Always hovering around, waiting to snatch up some roadkill.”

  I stood completely still.

  “I’m sure they mean well,” she continued, still unpacking, “but they don’t always know what’s best for a kid.” She turned around and looked right at me.

  “Do they?” she asked me.

  I slowly shook my head from side to side.

  I might have imagined it, but I think Fiona almost smiled. “Looks like we’ve got everything we need, and Lisa is all set to take over the pub for a few days. So I think we’ll get an early start in the morning. Don’t want to be delayed by last-minute visitors or anything, do we?”

  I shook my head again, still not daring to speak. I think if I did, I might cry. Guys named Dirk wouldn’t cry, but I was still Chris and, sometimes, Chrises still felt tears well up behind their eyes.

  I washed glasses until my fingers were wrinkly and my back ached, but I didn’t mind. We were leaving for the Yukon in the morning.

  CHAPTER 12

  A SWEET RIDE

  I dropped my backpack by the back door. I was all packed. It’s not like it took me long. Fiona had let me, well, insisted really, that I use her shower this morning, so all I had to do was put in my dirty clothes and pull out clean ones. I double-checked that the registration paper signed by my dad was still tucked behind the cardboard, carefully rewrapped Granddad’s picture so it wouldn’t crack and, don’t tell anyone, but I rubbed it for good luck. Stupid, I know, but I hoped at some point the Dearing bad luck might turn around and Dad and I would catch a break.

  By eight thirty we were ready to go. I wasn’t really sure how we were going to get there because as far as I knew, Fiona didn’t own a car. Anytime I ever saw her outside the bar, she was walking. Maybe we were going to take the bus together?